"Never mind now, you're so wet."

"Well, I can't get any wetter, and I'll work and keep warm. It won't do
to have the water comin' in like this--look here, there's a mud puddle
right on Sis's back, an' she don't know it."

He laughed and went out. It was quite dark, but the rain had nearly
ceased. With his wheel-barrow and shovel he went to a ravine close by
and obtained a load of clay, which he easily threw up on the roof of the
low "lean-to"; then he climbed up and patched the holes. A half hour's
work and it was done.

"And now I'll milk while I'm at it," he said; which he did.

"I've kept your supper warm," said his mother, as she busied with the
table. "It's turned quite cold. Why did you stay so long today?"

Rupert had changed his wet clothes, and the family was sitting around
the table eating mush and milk. A small lamp threw a cheery light over
the bare table and its few dishes, over the faces of mother, boy, and
girl. It revealed the bed, moved back into its usual corner, shone on
the cupboard with its red paint nearly worn off, and dimly lighted the
few pictures hanging on the rough whitewashed wall.

It was a poor home, but the lamplight revealed no discontent in the
faces around the table. True, the mother's was a little pinched and
careworn, which gave the yet beautiful face a sharp expression; but the
other two countenances shone with health and happiness. The girl was
enjoying her supper, the bright sagebrush fire, and the story book by
the side of her bowl, all at the same time. She dipped, alternately,